


Day 16: Alt #7- Winded

by Aelaer



Series: Whumptober 2019 [16]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Stephen Strange, Captivity, Dimension Travel, Gen, Magic, Sort Of, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 12:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelaer/pseuds/Aelaer
Summary: Back in the day, his mother would have said something along the lines of him being in "quite the pickle". Stephen had absolutely no idea where the absurd saying came from, but it seemed an appropriate statement for the situation.





	Day 16: Alt #7- Winded

**Author's Note:**

> Part of one of my mini-series I've created throughout the Whumptober process (it won't make much sense if you don't read these parts first):  
Part one: [Day 9](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076163)  
Part two: [Day 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21130214)

Back in the day, his mother would have said something along the lines of him being in "quite the pickle". Stephen had absolutely no idea where the absurd saying came from, but it seemed an appropriate statement for the situation as he was trying to avoid the line of thinking that went to "completely fucked".

So. Quite the pickle.

A quick check to make sure that no one was prodding his mind (they weren't) later, Stephen set to mentally laying out the situation before him.

At the moment, he was more or less bound immobile, muted, and within a seal that made magic all the more difficult to do; he recognized some of the runes, even if they were laid out in a manner he was not entirely familiar with.

Not great, admittedly.

However, he had thought of something resembling a plan for getting help for himself before he submitted to the occultists. He knew the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj were good, but speeding the rescue process along was no bad thing. But with that threat made against his Earth, it was now rather imperative that he made his "something of a plan" work; it was not just his life on the line anymore.

And he needed to do it without drawing the attention of the two guards. The best way to do that, he supposed, was to appear as if he wasn't doing anything.

He could do that.

And so Stephen closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, to appear as if he were meditating (or had given up, but he wasn't sure if other Stephen Stranges around the multiverse were the sorts not to give up, either, and had shown their stubbornness to these occultists). Whatever the case, he wanted to appear docile and nonthreatening to the two sorcerers watching him as he did his damnedest to work around the seal.

Once he cracked through the seal, he would have a chance to attempt his "something of a plan". This plan involved using the connection the Cloak had with its chosen sorcerer; for inexplicable reasons, the Cloak was able to find him across great distances when on the same physical plane, so long as nothing was muting his magical signature. They never fully tested out the distance, but he was fairly certain it was over one hundred miles on the same physical plane.

He also had never tested the connection properly across dimensions, but he knew the innate magic of his reality like the back of his hand; he just hoped that his bond with the Cloak made finding his reality across the multiverse all the more quicker. From there, he'd speak with the first master he found about his situation and, more importantly, the threat against Earth.

His plan would have been a good deal simpler without the seal, so it was rather unfortunate they thought of it. It would take time to figure it out, and even more time to slip past it without alerting the other two sorcerers. He wasn't sure how much time he had.

Despite his racing thoughts, he kept within a calm, meditative position, almost appearing as if he had drifted off, and he slowly unraveled the logic behind the seal to slip past it.

* * *

He found a possible solution. Unfortunately, said possible solution was going to exert a lot of energy and he could show nothing. While he could feel the sorcerers guarding him grow more complacent the longer he remained still, he was sure that would change the moment anything remotely different happened.

Stephen carefully gathered the energy about him with the barest twitches of his fingers, the very little he was able to move in his fetters; he didn't hear anything from the two watching him, so he continued to gather at the same pace. It was slow, achingly slow, but he would only have one chance at this, he was certain.

The long minutes passed on until he felt he had enough energy to break the seal and come through to his astral form. All he had to do was push himself out without making any physical movements. He took in a silent, deep breath, and then _pushed_ himself through the seal and below, under the floor to the level beneath him.

There _was_ a floor beneath him. And it landed him in a storage closet. Thank the Vishanti for small mercies.

The effort to break the seal left him panting even in his astral form, but there was no time to waste; he needed to find his Earth and he needed to do so now. Stephen closed his eyes and reached out to the same dimensional energy he drew from for his own powers, searching for that signature he so well knew, looking for anything in particular that stood out within the millions of lines of energy that made up the multiverse.

After some time, he saw one of the lines pulsing softly in its light in ways the others did not. He immediately reached out to it and—

—universes rushed past him as he travelled well beyond the speed of sound, the speed of light, too quickly for his mind to even contemplate as worlds both great and terrible blurred in colors he could not begin to distinguish—

—until his astral form abruptly stopped in the same warehouse he was just in however long ago it was. He took a moment to catch his breath, unable to really do much except _be_ as the rest of the world caught up to him. He shut his eyes until the dizziness abated a bit, then opened them again to look around.

Laura and the kids weren't there anymore. But crawling around the warehouse were several men and women in suits— they definitely looked like S.H.I.E.L.D.— and one of them was talking to a very stoic-faced Wong. And Wong abruptly looked in his direction, eyes slightly narrowing. Without a word he prepared a shield, and the agent beside him immediately drew out a gun. Stephen wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Suddenly a streak of red came from around the corner from behind Wong, and oh, the Cloak was still here, too. It clearly recognized his presence before Wong did, considering how it was circling his form in a way that reminded him of an overly excited puppy.

At the Cloak's reaction, Wong slowly lowered his hands, and his stoic expression wavered as something cautiously hopeful took over. "Stephen?" he called.

Right, time to make an appearance. It took a good deal more energy than he was used to needing, but he managed to break through the astral plane and show himself to the physical world. It was exhausting.

Wong quickly crossed the distance, a frown across his features. "You idiot," he said in greeting.

"Nice to see you, too," he breathed. Wong's frown deepened at his clear exhaustion. "I don't know how long I can keep this up— I slipped through the seal but the distance is something else."

"Where are you?"

" 'nother dimension. They made runes— here." He carefully sketched the runes he saw them perform before they had left Earth, and Wong quickly followed his gestures to copy it as an illusion made with his own magic.

Wong frowned at his own handiwork. "I recognize these runes, but not the spell. Hamir may have a better understanding."

"You'll need everyone," Stephen pressed on. "Maybe backup from the Avengers. There's at least two dozen, maybe more. I couldn't scout it out. And they want to destroy our Earth."

"Of course they do," Wong replied dryly.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will get torn apart," he said, glancing at the agent.

"The woman, that doctor, called 911 before I got here," Wong said, and Stephen could tell, despite his unflappable delivery, that Wong was not very happy with having to deal with the government agents. "What do they want with you?"

Stephen made a face. "Sacrifice me to some fictional eldritch horror. Apparently one of my counterparts in the multiverse supposedly pissed it off." He could feel a tug upon his astral form, beckoning him back to his body. He grimaced and fought against it.

Wong actually frowned. "What did they call it?"

"Uh—" He grimaced as it tugged harder. "Shuma-Gorath."

Stephen really, really didn't like the fact that Wong actually blanched at the name. He didn't like that at all.

"We'll need backup," Wong said in reply.

"I— I can't be here much longer. It's too much for my body," he said, grimacing against another tug.

"We'll get there as fast as we can, Stephen."

"I can't fight directly against them— get them first. Stop them." And at the next tug, he let go of his connection to Earth.

The flight back to his body was near instantaneous, and Stephen's eyes flew open as he inhaled sharply through his nostrils. He was back in his physical form.

He sent a surreptitious look towards the guards; one of them was now staring directly at him. He straightened in his restraints and shot him an equally cold look, letting his eyes say what he was prevented from saying aloud. The other sorcerer sneered at him in return.

They didn't seem to suspect anything. Good; then there was actually a chance that he would get out of this alive.


End file.
